The Seduction of Hades
by LadyParsley
Summary: Not your typical HadesPersephone retelling... Persephone is no innocent womanchild virgin, Hermes is a philandering rake, and Hades thinks he's immune to it all. 'M' rating for future content. On hyatus for a while due to life but will continue soon...
1. The Favors of Goddesses

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any Greek myth, gods or goddesses. But then, can anyone truly ever own anything?

* * *

"The Seduction of Hades"

By Lady Parsley

Chapter One - The Favors of Goddesses

"Did you _truly_ think that I _should_ be a virgin?" She had to laugh as she watched the disappointed farm boy lace up his sandals and readjust the drape of his clothing. His sun-bronzed skin was a choice accent to his well-cut features and chiseled face. Just like all the other farm boys who came to seek fortune from Demeter by bedding down her beloved daughter, Persephone. She propped her head up on an arm and lifted one copper eyebrow at the mortal beside her. "Come now... Truly?"

He paused in the act of knotting his sandal thongs. "In all honesty... Yes."

She shook her head. "Think on it thusly: I am the goddess of beautiful flowers; ripe, succulent fruit; soft, pliant grasses; balmy, perfumed breezes..." She rose up on her knees behind him and brushed her tapered fingers along his broad shoulders. A trail of warm kisses led from his neck to his ear. "And yet, somehow, I am presumed by you to be a virgin. To your mind, should _that_ make sense?"

"I should not presume anything from a goddess." His averted eyes and clipped tone only caused her to laugh again.

"You _should_ not, mortal, but you _did_."

"I shall make no such mistake in the future."

Her large green eyes blinked, the warmth rapidly leaving them. "Have I _angered_ you somehow?" she asked, her own tone becoming clipped. He would dare feel _used_? Was it not _he_ who suggested the tryst and now _he_ is the one to feel slighted?

He turned to face her. "Praises are sung to you; the innocent blossom, the eternal child…"

"Mortals and nymphs sing said praises at the behest of my mother," she interrupted him. "As it is _she_ who wishes me to remain the 'eternal child.' It is not as _I_ would have it." Her tone was quickly turning from clipped to furious and she began to rise from her knees to face this offending fool.

"Perhaps you should consider emulating your mother's wishes, Persephone."

"Do I _look_ the child to you?" she demanded of him, planting her fisted hands on her hips as she grit her teeth together in fury. He shook his head but did not look at her and this only served to feed her mounting anger. "Farm boy!" she commanded. "Cast your gaze upon the goddess before you, not the grass 'neath your feet!"

He immediately shifted his eyes to Persephone. It was not fear behind them, but disdain; a look she had seen before, more often than she would have cared to. It had been in the eyes of every disillusioned man who thought he could bend the virgin goddess to his whims. She had tired of this look _long_ ago.

"Know you this, foolish mortal; I am no trembling maiden. I am not the blushing child-woman _my mother_ would have you sing your praise to. You cannot impress me with your clumsy fumbling, and sweet words will get you only foul luck!" Apparently, not so much a fool as to stay in the presence of an angered goddess, the farm-boy ran from the meadow, still only half dressed. Persephone screeched harsh words and curses after his fleeing form.

_Blessings for a bountiful harvest, ha! _She thought. _He should count himself blessed if I do not blight his crops!_ She settled herself back on the grass and retrieved her tunic. She continued grumbling to herself as she set about replacing the wreath of flowers in her auburn hair and fastening the cloth around her ample, curvaceous body. "My mother _also_ calls me lithe and delicate!" she shouted after her long-gone paramour. "Do I _seem_ fragile and waifish?"

"Certainly not," came an unexpected male voice from behind her, which caused her to jump. She turned to see a handsome young man, dressed in the clothes of a traveling merchant who continued, "Delicate, delectable, decedent, intoxicating, invigorating, irrepressible, inescapable; these words may do you some justice. But never 'fragile and waifish.'" His eyes glittered with the same sparkle that was in his charming smile.

"My lord Hermes," she greeted him with a knowing half-smile. Any mortal woman would not have seen through his disguise, however, Persephone had been subject to the overused attractive merchant façade many times and found it amusing now and again. "You are a welcome change from the company that has chosen to keep me of late."

"Truly so? I thought the fashion was to keep a well-shaped farmer's son continually at your arm." With a flash, Hermes cast off his disguise to reveal himself. The striking Messenger clad himself with the lightest silk drape that hung loosely from his hips. The winged sandals at his feet shone in the sun, as did his dark brown hair, which was shorn closely to his head. He sat next to her, stretching out his legs before him and crossing them at the ankle.

"Oh, nay not," she replied as he settled himself. "'Tis now the time to bedeck oneself with a well-crafted god ling."

"I am indeed behind the times!" he exclaimed in exaggerated concern. "It does not bode well for the god of the crossroads to be unaware of current fashions. Zeus should cast me from my office at once!"

"Mayhap he should," she said, a modicum of seriousness entering her tone. "Then it might be possible for me to meet with you more than once in a century! Am I truly being courted by you? Or is this merely a passing fancy?"

He took one of her hands, bending over it in apology. "Of course I am courting you. I am the only god in the pantheon bold enough to do so!" he added with pride. "But you know that Zeus continually keeps me busy, delivering his messages thither and yon, issuing summons, consulting with the oracles..."

"Oh, is _that_ how it is now termed? _Consulting_ with oracles..." She raised an eyebrow at him in mock disdain.

"Well, one must attend to the grateful natures of one's servants."

"One certainly must," Persephone said as she stopped her cloth draping and robe fastening for a moment to look at the handsome charmer with a bit of seriousness. "My lord, Hermes?"

"Yes, favored child?" he returned, moving closer to her and entwining her in his arms.

She briefly shuddered at the mention of being called a child yet again, but let it pass. "Think you that love shall ever find its way to my heart? Or shall I forever be destined to--" She could not finish as a tear slid from her emerald eyes and lined her round cheek.

"No," he admonished. "Weep not." He stroked her hair and pressed her closely to him. "You are not fated to forever dole out favors to unimpressive farm boys. I promise, soon, lovely, lonely Persephone shall love with passions yet unknown to gods and mortals alike." He pressed his lips to hers, his oath still warm in his breath.

* * *

"You want _what_?" The breezes played their frantic games with Aphrodite's long, dark, scented tresses, as she looked half-amused and half-confused at the godling at her feet. Hermes rolled his eyes and repeated his request.

"Please, I beg of you. Goddess of Love and Desire, grant me the heart of Demeter's daughter, Persephone. Make her love me as no other has ever loved and I vow I shall be a kind master over her." He flashed a warm smile to the goddess as she moved in closer to him. She smiled knowingly, her glance full of erotic promises. Her lips lightly brushed his, allowing a tiny bit of passion's euphoria to pass from her, something that would normally scatter the mind of a mortal being. After only that moment, she pulled slightly away.

"No," she whispered.

"_No_?" Hermes sat blot upright, confusion and shock written starkly across his face.

Aphrodite rose from her throne and swept past him, draping flowing about her, and seated herself at a large mirror. A comb appeared in her hand and she began to brush the wayward curls away from her face.

Hermes sat blankly for a moment before rising to face her. "I... don't understand."

"That much is obvious. I am aware that the word is not usually a part of your vernacular, but as I have said: no. In other words, it is a negative response to your _humble_ request."

"But there is no reason I can find for this small favor to be granted."

"_Small_ favor?" Aphrodite turned, leaving the comb to finish its work alone. "You begged for the love of Anitera of Athens. You promised you would be a constant beacon to her. And then, you tired of her and she _throws_ herself into the Aegean. So much for the 'constant beacon!'"

"Anitera was driven senseless. Well, she was senseless from the first. But Persephone--"

"And _then,_ there was Galetarian of Crete. You know, it is not every day that heart-broken women bury themselves alive, but she managed it. I must give her credit for that."

"Yes, she _was _industrious, but Perse--"

"And _lest_ we forget all _six_ of Hestia's Virgins..."

He opened his mouth to argue, and closed it, looking down at his winged sandals. "Ah."

She raised one finely arched brow. "Have I made my point clear, Hermes?"

"Most thoroughly," he muttered, then lifted his head to argue once more. "But Persephone is a goddess and therefore--"

"And therefore _immortal_. Once you tire of her, there is no burying alive, no leaps from high cliffs, and no angry mobs coming to punish her for blasphemy. Only mourning and pining for _all eternity_. Funerary flowers shall grow at every crossroad. All messengers will be cursed with horrible deaths. To say _nothing_ of what will happen to all of your temples. Not only that, I happen to _like_ the child. I do not wish such a plague as you to be caste down upon her."

"But there is no fear that I shall tire of her this time," Hermes protested. "As she is a goddess, she shall keep me ever enthralled!"

She stared at him for a moment. "Think you that I have just emerged from the sea this day? My answer is still 'no,' Hermes."

"What manner of errand shall I perform?"

She rolled her eyes, turning back to the mirror, though she could still see his pleading form reflected behind her. Now that arguing had failed him, he was turning to bartering with a healthy seasoning of groveling thrown in for good measure.

"What service shall I give?" he continued. "Shall I send flocks of the most beautiful mortals to your temples and shrines?"

"I can do that already. I have said 'no,' and I mean 'no!'"

"Very well. I shall spend the rest of my days begging at thy feet."

Aphrodite paused at the prospect of Hermes groveling and begging without respite for the rest of eternity. So now he was turning to threats. She pinched the bridge of her perfect nose to stave off the oncoming headache. She really did not wish to do this... But as she was about to open her mouth, an idea struck her. Carefully, she schooled her face so the evil smile would not reveal itself to its unknowing recipient.

"You may _NEVER _beg another favor of me, Hermes."

A low smirk spread across his lips and the shine returned to his eyes. "I would never dream of it."

"_Ever_!" she emphasized. "There is _meaning_ behind this," she said as she returned to her throne.

"I shall be ever vigilant to her."

"I am certain of it," she intoned, really not wishing to hear it anymore. "Go. Next you see Persephone, she shall be yours. Leave my sight, else I change my mind."

"You are the most gracious and generous of all the--"

"Flattery and lies, swift one. Go now." And he was gone.

A well-hidden crafty smile now spread across the goddess's face. Oh, she would make certain he would never ask for another heart to be his. "Eros," she called to the open air. "Eros, my lovely boy! Your mother has need of you and your talents!" No sooner had the call left her lips than did the love god appear. Feathered wings carried his magnificent form lightly to the floor.

"Mother, you called?" His mischievous smile mirrored that of his mother's.

"You heard the favor that I have bestowed upon Hermes?"

"Not like you to relent, Mother. I was shocked."

"Nor is it like me to pass by an opportunity to teach over-arrogant godlings a much needed lesson."

"Ah! _There _is your motive! Tell your obedient son your divine vengeance."

"Such a sweet charmer. I have taught you well."

"I have taken your lessons as truths to be held to the highest, and they have served me accordingly."

"Flattery on your part will get you everywhere... As you well know, obviously." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Now on to my plan..."

To be continued...

Author's Note: This is my first fanfic that I have written without the official help of my co-writer. For the record, I will NOT be following the myth to the T, this is my own interpretation. Constructive, helpful criticisms are encouraged; flaming me will get you the karmic beat-down stick. Love you much!

--Parsley--


	2. Stealth and Speed

"The Seduction of Hades"

By Lady Parsley

Chapter Two – Stealth and Speed

The breezes were sweetened with the scent of Persephone's hair as Hermes returned to the earth. Branches of nearby olive trees bent beneath the weight of the ripe fruit they bore and a carpet of small, white flowers covered the ground beneath his feet. He could hear the giggling of the nymphs in the wind and knew that his prize for dealing with Aphrodite was very close by.

He soon found her, hard at work, kneeling in front of a flowering bush, paint brush in one hand and a palette in the other. He watched as she grabbed a wayward tress from in front of her emerald eyes and tucked it neatly behind one ear. Deep in thought, she studied the empty air in front of her before making any decisions. Her tongue glided across her lower lip then came to rest in the corner of her mouth as she dabbed the brush across the palette. She painted each fragile petal a most elegant flush of the darkest shade of blue Hermes had ever seen. She nodded approvingly at her handiwork, before a look of disapproval crossed her face. With a snap of her fingers, the wind turned the blossom to dust and flecks of blue light danced in the breeze and were gone as if they'd never existed. She began again, choosing a more purple hue.

"Enjoying the view, Hermes?" She said as she continued her artistry. Never once did her hand falter from their task. Sheepishly, he walked out from behind the shelter of the hedge.

"How did you know I was there?" He inquired.

"Swiftest of the gods," She laughed, "not the most stealthy." Still her attention did not stray from her painting. Hermes smiled as he walked closer to the kneeling goddess. He slid his hand through her auburn curls and grabbed the soft loops firmly, pulling until her face tilted towards his. Lowering his head he brushed a teasing kiss across her soft lips, and then stared deeply into her eyes.

"Is there something you wish to profess, sweetest of goddesses?" he let his hand sweep down from her hair, along her neck and down her shoulder to the clasp of her drape, and unfastened it. His lips trailed her chin and found her rapid pulse at her pale throat.

"Nothing, Lord Hermes." She whispered through impassioned gasps. Her hands were busy occupying themselves with the task of running themselves over his form, seeming to memorize every expanse of his skin. He smiled; even goddesses deny their hearts in the face of pride. He trailed his fingertips over the swell of her ample breasts and was delighted to hear her sigh in ecstasy.

"Nothing, Persephone?" his right hand removed the rest of her drape as his left began the arduous task of removing his own. His gentle coaxing would soon pry what he wanted from her lips, then, and only then would he take her. "Nothing at all?"

"I fear that naught comes to mind, Gentle messenger," A growing lustful smile on her lips as she gripped the back of his thighs and, more aggressively than he though possible of her, dug the nails of her long fingers into his flesh. It was then his turn to gasp. She took his entire length slowly in her mouth, pressing against him. Then, as she pulled away, unbearably slow, sucking gently, her tongue swathing his underside, she moaned. Shivers made their journey up his spine and were followed rapidly by the goddess's nails. He marveled at her mastery of pain mixed with pleasure to linger both. She repeated her movements several times, until he nearly lost his reasoning.

"Is there something that _you_ wish to profess, my lord?" she asked coquettishly when she had relinquished her hold upon him. Lust had replaced so much of his godly blood that he could barely see, much less think.

"Uh, no." Was all that made it's way out of his mouth. "By Zeus! It does escape my mind how _anyone_ could mistake you for a virgin!" He managed to say. Everything he was screamed out for her to continue. Everything but his pride.

"Many thanks to you," She said in a voice so collected and calm, one would think he had just complimented her new sandals. "My cousin has taught me many things at her knee and out of my mother's earshot. I am thusly made an honorary disciple of desire. High priestess of lust unabated. Aphrodite's favored cousin."

Hermes shivered as the name of the Goddess was spoken. Blood and the purpose for his visit here returned to his brain. He lowered himself down upon the lush grass, and took in the full view of the goddess's eyes.

"Persephone," His serious tone seemed only to amuse her, and she began to giggle. The sound of laughter in the wind chimed in with her own. "Nay, laugh not. I beg of you, speak solemn truth."

"Oh, very well." She rolled her eyes, and finding her discarded drape, began to dress. "What truth shall I reveal unto thee?"

"You state truly that there is naught, you wish to profess."

"There is nothing."

"On your honor…"

"What's left of it?" She giggled, again.

"Persephone."

"Hermes, I tire of this. I profess, upon my honor, in all seriousness, with the very solemnity of Thanatos and Celeste, I have nothing to profess."

"Nothing aching within you soul?"

"Do you wish to anger me, Hermes?"

"No, no foolish farmer's son am I."

"Good." Her arms entwined around him, and nimble fingers traced the contours of his backside. Lust began it quest, anew, to conquer the god's body. He allowed himself this pleasure before his pride and disappointment made a firm stand in his mind. He rose to his feet and gently disengaged himself from the goddess.

"A moment, I beg of you." And before she could protest, he was gone.

Eros could see the frustrated, half dressed, Persephone screaming to the clouds and beating her fists on the ground. He smiled in amusement, but also with concern. His task was set before him. She would be Hermes' within moments. Hephaestus had crafted the sharpest of golden arrows and Eros himself had loaded it with more of Love's poison than he thought possible. He had to. The wound was meant to be deep, unhealable, and irreversible. He was to inflict the pains and trials of love upon Persephone, and she had done nothing to deserve it.

"You disobedient wretch!" came the voice of a furious Hermes from behind the love god. The smile still lingered with Eros as he lowered and shook his head.

"'Wretch', I will admit to, cousin. But, 'disobedient,' is no word that shall ever pertain to me." He gave a low mocking bow to the God of the Crossroads and laughed quietly as he rose.

"Your jesting wears thin, and I find no amusement in it!" Hermes hissed at him through clenched teeth. "Your Mother promised that Persephone would be mine next I saw her!"

"And so she shall." Eros took up his bow and pulled the arrow from his quiver. "You forget your speed, childhood playfellow. I long since have given up trying to best you in any race, for any reason. My mother puts far too much faith in my speed. I, unlike you, cannot find myself anywhere in an instant." He pretended to prepare his bowstring and check the straightness of the arrow. (Although it was not in necessity, Hephaestus, would never made an arrow less than perfect) Hermes lowered his head in contemplation. Eros nearly let out a laugh as he watched the expressions Hermes face change from one of annoyance, then thoughtfulness, confusion, regret, back to confusion, and then back to annoyance.

"You took your own time, didn't you?"

Eros's own annoyance was not entirely feigned. "You may find this a shock, Hermes, but your desires alone do not shape the way of other's duties. Though you may traverse all worlds in an instant, they are large places, with many others, than you, within them."

"She will be mine?"

"Most definitely." Eros drew his bow and aimed it. He made no move, but waited. "Are you going to go to her? Or shall I simply fire now and have you miss the first looks of love?" Hermes darted in a flash and soon was near the goddess again.

Eros knew his timing must be exact. He waited as Persephone rose to meet him, her hands on her ample hips. A pleading Hermes in front of her, charming his way back into her good graces. The familiar smile of lustful thoughts spread on her mouth, and a kiss planted upon Hermes'. Eros waited. Waited until she had enticed Hermes into a sensual frenzy, until the Harvest Goddess and the Messenger of the Gods merged in a lovers' embrace. Persephone's naked back to him, Eros Took aim and shot.

The arrow, sharp, true, and packed with enough of the venom of love to take two hearts, plunged through her back, her heart and out the front of her chest, plunging into Hermes' chest and into his heart.

The arrow had found its _true_ mark. Eros nodded with the satisfaction of a job well done.


End file.
